


Rhett Butler - All Man

by rubeanddodo



Category: Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:12:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2834399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubeanddodo/pseuds/rubeanddodo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old piece of silliness.  Not to be taken seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhett Butler - All Man

SILLY  
  
Definition:  
  
absurd, giddy, foolish  
  
  
  
IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH  
  
"Scarlett.....Scarlett..."

Scarlett was in a deep sleep. She was exhausted, having stayed up well after everyone else in the house had gone to bed. She had spent hours trying to untangle the confusing muddle that Ashley had made with the books from the mill, credits had been mixed up with debits and none of it made any sense. When the hall clock elegantly struck four, she had finally given up, realizing that the numbers were swirling before her and she needed sleep. The books would just have to wait until the morning when she was refreshed. Slipping into bed, she was thankful for the warmth of Rhett lying beside her and quickly fell in to a heavy, dreamless slumber.

"Scarlett, honey..."  
"Not now, Rhett." she murmured. "I'm too tired for your foolishness."  
"No, Scarlett, wake up! It's an emergency!"  
Scarlett bolted upright, her heart pounding with alarm. "What's wrong? Is the house on fire - are the children alright?" She was ready to run, ready to protect all she held dear.  
"Scarlett - I'm sick. I've got the snuffles." Rhett croaked.  
"You've got what?"  
"The snuffles. A cold." Rhett groaned.  
"Oh, is that all. Go back to sleep and you'll feel better in the morning."

Scarlett lowered her head back on her soft pillow, her eyes already closed.  
"Scarlett...I think have I have a fever - feel my head, I feel like I'm on fire!"  
Scarlett sighed. She sat up and put her hand on Rhett's proud forehead.  
"You're fine, Rhett. Go to sleep."  
"My Mother used to kiss my forehead to test for fever."  
"You don't have a fever, now go to sleep." Scarlett snipped, wishing he would just stop with his whining and let her sleep. She turned over and clinched her eyes shut, waiting for sleep's surrender.  
Her breathing slowed and her mind gave way to soft thoughts of dollar bills falling on her.

  
"No, I'm burning up with fever." Rhett sniffled and gave a small cough. "Scarlett, sugar, won't you get me a cool rag, please."  
Growling under her breath, both with the disruption to sleep and the term sugar, which she hated, Scarlett threw back the bed clothes and stomped to the the bathing room. Running the cold water tap, she rung out a thick washcloth, thinking of wrapping it tightly around Rhett's neck.

  
Returning back to the bed, she noticed Rhett had taken all the pillows.  
"I thought it would be better to sit up. It may help my cough." Rhett croaked.  
Scarlett mutely put the damp cloth over Rhett's eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.  
Circling round the bed, Scarlett lay down again. Just as she settled onto the bed, Rhett spoke again.  
"Scarlett, my throat hurts. I feel like I have razors cutting me."  
"Stop talking then." grumped Scarlett as she squeezed her eyes shut against the light from the dawn's rise.  
"I think some honey would help. Could you get me some?"  
With a deep sigh and through gritted teeth, Scarlett evenly said, "Fine. Anything else?"  
"Well, I am a bit hungry. My mother always said you should starve a cold and feed a fever or was it the other way round? Never mind, I have both and I am peckish."  
Scarlett rose once again from the warmth of the bed. "I'll ring for Rosa." She made her way to the room bell.

  
"Oh, really? Well..." Rhett faltered.  
"Well what?" Scarlett stopped.  
"It's just that my Mother always used to cook my food when I was sick. Then I knew it was made with love."  
"Do I look like your Mother?" Scarlett mumbled under her breath. Snatching up her silk wrapper and jamming her tiny feet into her soft slippers, Scarlett pleasantly said, "I'll be right back, darling."

  
After jolting back a strong cup of bitter coffee and burning her finger on the hot boiling pot, Scarlett returned to the bedroom with a heavy tray. Rhett was asleep.  
"Rhett, wake up. Here is your breakfast."  
Rhett groaned pitifully. "You shouldn't have woken me, I had just gotten off to sleep and I think rest is what I need. Never mind now." Glancing at the tray, Rhett sighed. "Oh...."  
"Something wrong? There is your honey and I made you eggs and toast."  
"You gave me coffee."  
Scarlett spoke as to a feeble minded child "Yes, you always have coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream."  
"But when I'm sick I always like tea with lemon."  
"Well how was I to know....." Holding her temper, Scarlett said, "Shall I go and get you some tea?"  
"No, no, never mind, I will make do." Rhett replied with a touch of martyrdom.

Lifting the silver lid from the plate, Rhett's face fell.  
"You didn't make soldiers!" he pouted.  
"What are you talking about!"  
"My mother always cut my toast into soldiers so I could dip them in my eggs."  
"Fine, how about I cut your toast for you? " Scarlett said, grasping a knife and thinking how she would like to cut his throat at the same time.  
With a sad sigh, Rhett lay his head back on the multiple pillows.  
"I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought. You can take the tray now, Scarlett. I'm just going to go nap time now."  
The blood pounded in Scarlett's brain as she took up the tray, wondering if death would be instantaneous if she dropped it on Rhett's head.

  
"Oh and Scarlett...I promised Bonnie I would take her to the zoo today. You'll have to go in my place. And I don't think she should come near me. I don't want her getting sick with this." Rhett garbled something else that may have been a thank you or it may have been a request for a lullaby but Scarlett was so very tired, she just didn't care.

  
The rest of Scarlett's day was spent preventing Bonnie from disturbing Rhett.  
They went to the zoo, and to begin with, Bonnie was excited to have Scarlett's undivided attention, but when she insisted that Scarlett get the bears to wave at her, because Daddy always did, Scarlett failed miserably. Poor Scarlett could not get the somnolent animals to wake, little alone wave, no matter how sweetly she called, whistled, shouted, the bears slept on and Bonnie grew angrier and her lower lip stuck out further. A candied apple brought a momentary smile to Bonnie again and Scarlett bit her tongue when Bonnie wiped her sticky fingers over her lovely fox fur muff.

  
The carriage ride home was long and as they passed McClaren's Toy Shop, Bonnie insisted they stop because Daddy had promised her the dolly in the window.  
"I don't think so, baby. You have had enough treats for one day."  
Bonnie's shrieks for her Daddy and tears over how mean a mummy she had, drew the attention of those walking on the street and Scarlett was forced to buy the doll, a new baby carriage for Suzette, (the new doll's name), three changes of clothes and a china tea set for Suzette's first tea party, which Bonnie announced would be this afternoon.

  
Arriving home again, Scarlett settled Bonnie into her bed after changing Suzette into each new outfit, complete with tying tiny bows in the doll's black hair and struggling with the wee boots that had no desire to fit easily on the dolly's porcelain feet.  
"Enough, Bonnie. It's nap time for Suzette and for you too!" Scarlett pleaded. Her green eyes were burning with lack of sleep and she was having a hard time sitting upright.

  
Tip toeing out of Bonnie's room, Scarlett headed towards her own bedroom for a much earned nap of her own. Just as she put out her hand to turn the door knob, Pork appeared before her.  
"Miz. Scarlett, glad's you home agin. Mastah Rhett been askin' wheres you are cuz he wants beef tea just like his Momma used to make and can's you make 'im sum?"  
Scarlett looked at the dark wrinkled old face of the man in front of her and wondered if he was deranged or maybe this was all just a horrible dream. But if it was a dream, she would be asleep and Scarlett knew she wasn't.  
Squaring her shoulders, Scarlett took a deep breath and made her way down the stairs to the kitchen to start the long process of making the beef tea.

  
By nighttime, Scarlett's legs were aching with running up and down the long staircase for either sweet Bonnie or Rhett. Hot bricks for Rhett, cold tea for Bonnie's welcome tea with Suzette. Special foods were hand made for both the dolly and the convalescent by Scarlett. She bit her tongue until it was raw with kind words and gentle touches to both. Who was the bigger baby, Scarlett could not decide.

  
But now, finally, they were asleep and she could get into bed for the well-deserved rest.With a deep sigh, Scarlett went to lay down but was stopped by the disgusting vision before her. Her side of the bed was dotted with damp hankerchiefs.  
"How did Mother do it? How did she not go mad with it all?' Scarlett thought as she gingerly picked off the sodden hankies.  
Sadly, poor Scarlett did not get much rest that night. Between Rhett's sneezes that shook the bed, his coughs that would have woken the dead, and his snores Scarlett almost cried with desperation.

  
"Scarlett, Scarlett, wake up!"  
Scarlett eyes burned and her throat scratched.  
"Oh, Rhett, I don't feel well."  
"That's what you get for not taking care of yourself. Look at me, I'm fit as a fiddle. All I needed was a bit of rest. You really need to take better care of yourself my dear. Well, I'm off to Richmond - don't forget that Bonnie needs to be fitted for her new riding boots and I think you should check on the roof. Where is my gold tie pin, I'm sure I had it last week. Also, I want you to speak to Tina about my shirts, there is too much starch in them and also......."

  
Scarlett rose out of bed and started to search for the lost tie pin and thought of her long day ahead and almost wept.  
A thought crossed her mind. If there was ever a jury of married women, she was sure she would be found not guilty of justifiably killing and a smile came back to her. Her dimples deepened and she began to sing, "Ain't Nobody knows My Blues."

 

  
  


 


End file.
